The Portrait
by mrsdalliswinston
Summary: The wizarding community has found out about the personified nations, and to honor them, puts up portraits of them. When Arthur's portrait starts developing feelings for a strong willed American witch, what will come of it? Arthur/OC (OC Centric) Rated T for language and probably a little tomfoolery ;D Reviews are very welcome! Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: In which Dallas wanted tea

**A/N: This is just a weird little plot bunny that I had hopping around my head. Bear with me, it's very OC centric, and only briefly features the golden trio, but it heavily features the Allies, namely Arthur, and some other scattered countries. There is no real set time frame, so, that part is left to your imagination. I really hope you enjoy, and reviews are appreciated, not required.**

**Chapter 1) **

* * *

The existence of personified countries wasn't exactly a big shock to the magical community of Hogwarts. Not that anything was, at this point. Perhaps it mystified some of the younger students, but Dallas was not amused as she sat at her perch at the Ravenclaw table, legs crossed, waiting for dinner.

Perhaps I should introduce the main character before we move on with our story. Dallas Smith was a seventh year Ravenclaw, and also, at the moment, very hungry. Her dark brown hair fell is soft waves down her back, pulled back by a blue ribbon. It was slightly frizzy at the moment, and was getting in her dark blue eyes, which, at the moment, were looking a little drained and grey. She was tall, and lanky, but pretty in a very cute kind of way.

Back to the countries. Apparently, whoever makes up the rules in the castle (oh yeah, the headmaster) decided that to honor them, they'd put up portraits of them. Fabulous, lovely, great. Dallas continued zoning in and out as Dumbledore continued droning on about these lovely novelties being awarded to the castle, and couldn't help but let her mind slip to her aching stomach.

To make long story short she waited, dinner came, and she went to bed.

At the same time, ten portraits were being hung up in one of the…lesser used corridors.

"Who decided the layout of this? I really bloody hate where I am." A certain cranky English country complained.

"How nice, you focken ass." A red-haired Emerald Isle said from next to him, folding her freckly arms over her chest.

"Well, I suppose it's not too bad, at least I'm not near that frog…" England responded briskly.

"Angleterre~ did you know that you can walk through paintings?" France said, walking himself through the rest of the Allies' frames, pausing in Scotland's, which happened to hang across from England.

England sighed.

"Good!" And with that, he marched out of his frame, through others, to get some fresh air, so to speak.

* * *

At the same time, Dallas was having that dream again. The walls of the old fort used as an American wizarding school burning to the ground, strange men dressed in all black, and the voice telling her that she was being allowed to finish her schooling at a most esteemed school in England, the heart of the fire.

Dallas bolted upright in her bed, her chest heaving. She shook her head and quietly groped for her wand in the darkness. Pulling a light pink bathrobe on and wiping the drool off her cheek, she left the common room and began on her journey into the kitchens.

"Stuck with that bloody Frenchman…that bloody American!" She heard an angry sounding voice complaining. She stopped in her tracks.

"Lumos," She said, raising her wand. The light penetrated the darkness, and illuminated the face of a cross looking man, wearing all green a few shades darker than his big green eyes. Not to mention the eyebrows….Dallas had to stop herself from staring. All in all he would be rather attractive…if it wasn't for that big scowl on his face.

"Shut that blasted light out! And what are you doing up at this hour-" He started.

Dallas rolled her eyes.

"I couldn't sleep. And I'm pretty sure me running to the kitchens for a cup of tea is not quite as disruptive as you muttering and jumping through frames." She said, crossing her arms. Arthur looked uncomfortable.

"Well I-"

"Exactly."

"Are you American?" He asked curiously. Dallas flinched.

"I…yes. I am."

"Really? Isn't there a school for you…not…here?"

"That's outstandingly rude." Dallas crossed her arms and pouted a little. Truth be told, logic was telling her to walk away…something she listened to very carefully, but, she just stood there, talking to the portrait of the irate country.

Arthur paused.

"I'm sorry." He said. The two of them stood there awkwardly.

"Well, yes, there was. But the Death Eaters burned it down. They dislike Americans about as much as they dislike blood traitors." She said, spitting out the words 'Death Eaters' like they left a bad taste in her mouth. Arthur gave an apologetic look.

"Oh, America didn't tell me that…"

"I can see why. You seem judgy."

"That's not a word." He said. Dallas let out a laugh.

"I apologize." She said.

The two of them continued exchanging awkward, almost friendly banter for about a half an hour. It was awkward, believe me. It was obvious from the stiff way Arthur held himself, even painted, that he didn't spend much time around people let alone girls.

Eventually, Dallas decided that, as nice as this awkward conversation was, she was tired, and she did have classes the next morning.

"Look- Arthur was is?" He nodded. "This was nice but, I'm tired and I have stuff to do tomorrow…so, I'm going to head to bed."

He made an almost…dejected face.

"A-alright." He said. Dallas turned on her heels, heading back to the Ravenclaw tower when England called out-

"Will I see you again?" Dallas turned. She was almost positive that if he could blush, he would be doing so right now. She felt the tips of her ears turning red.

"Yeah." She stated, turning and walking away brusquely, no intention of ever talking to the portrait-country-man again.

If only she knew.


	2. Chapter 2: In which Arthur tries to spy

**I got really bored and decided that I really like this plot so-here! It's going to be fun to toy with.**

**Chapter 2) **

* * *

Dallas stumbled back to her dorm, trying to work out in here head what had just happened. Nothing much-she was use to the annoying, strange, but mostly annoying occurrences with things like that at Hogwarts. The portraits got mouthy sometimes-no big deal.

Right?

Dallas shook her head and clambered into bed. She was just overtired. Thinking that talking to a portrait meant anything more than it did…she gave a rueful laugh. What was she doing? She didn't get this worked up over the tiny, unsubstantial conversations she had had with Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and this was a portrait.

A rather nicely painted one.

But she digresses.

At the same time, Arthur, or the painting of him rather, was having quite conflicted thoughts. You see, portraits can have emotion and thoughts, as long as they corresponded with how the actual subject of the painting would have reacted, and they remember the accomplishments of whom they were representing up to the point in time in which they were painted. This England would not remember what Arthur Kirkland had for breakfast tomorrow, but would, in this case, remember what Dallas would have. Likewise, the real (I suppose we can call him that in lack of a better term) Arthur Kirkland would not know about the multiple emotions rushing around his portraits head, but would remember the irritation and headache gained from America's company at the meeting tomorrow.

England stumbled back into his frame, ignoring the glances from the other country's paintings. He was-for lack of a better word- enamored by this school girl. And, point blank, was disgusted by it. She wasn't exceptionally pretty, definitely not someone that he would be lusting over after one conversation. There were some things that were above average in his eyes-the light dusting of freckles that sat atop her nose, her big blue eyes that even in the darkness conveyed quite a bit of emotion (which, tended to be annoyance), her-he needed to stop there. Like he said, this was a school girl. And he was a painting. Not to mention most people he met were annoyed by him after a while. Perhaps he was just intrigued because she was a witch. If he remembers correctly-the real him was quite infatuated with magic. Their conversation had been brief and revealed almost nothing about either of them. Besides general knowledge; her name was Dallas, she was in Ravenclaw house, and liked to read. Oh, and she was adorable.

As those words slipped through the 2 dimensional version of Arthur's mind, he slid down his frame in a slump. Only he could get himself into these situations. At the moment, he was cursing the day the real Arthur's god forsaken island became its own country. What was he going to do?

What any respectable Englishman would do. Creep on her.

* * *

The next morning Dallas waltzed into the Great Hall, mind completely cleared, and completely refreshed. She stretched a little and plopped down between her two best friends, whom both looked like they were still attempting to keep their eyes open.

"Rough night, ladies?" She asked, smiling a little.

Anna, Dallas' red-haired friend, replied first.

"You can take your cheery attitude and shove it up your sodding-" To which Anna's sister Kara, who had more of an auburn colored hair and a lesser attitude replied,

"Calm yourself, Anna." Anna didn't calm. She just crossed her arms and pouted.

For a second, Dallas contemplated telling her friends about the man-country-portrait thing, (what the hell was she supposed to call him?!) but she decided against it. It was weird-and her mind probably made the whole thing up. Not that there was anything to make up-she assured herself.

'Just a perfectly normal, civil conversation between an obviously insane girl and an inanimate object that happens to be animate due to magic-nope, nothing weird here." She thought.

"Dallas, are you even listening to me?" Anna asked crossly, stealing a piece of bacon off of Dallas' plate.

"Uhh…nope not at all." She answered cheekily. Anna shot her a look. Kara laughed.

"Well, I asked Anna if that mural over there-" To which she pointed at with her fork, a bit of egg falling off, "Looks different today, I don't understand what I'm missing." She shook her head and went back to shoveling a mouthful of assorted items into her mouth. Dallas squinted at the portrait. It didn't look weird to her…maybe like there was one too many people crammed into the small frame space, but then again it probably was always like this…she just doesn't spend too much time staring at portraits. But then she saw-no, it couldn't be.

'Get your shit together Dallas!' She thought.

Standing up, Dallas fumbled with the strap of her bag.

"I'm…heading to the library guys." She said, walking away.

The two red-haired sisters shrugged and went back to their cereal and talk of nothing.

The whole way to the library, Dallas felt a pair of eyes on her. She had that weird, paranoid feeling she always had the first few months of Hogwarts. But then again, there's always Peeves. That bastard was very good at scaring little girls. Not that Dallas considered herself a little girl by any means, no, she was a young woman.

Dallas' autopilot brought her strait to the library, and she automatically felt safe within the large stacks of worn books, and the golden trio murmuring to each other in the corner of the oversized room. Nothing strange, as of late. She grabbed an old book off of a shelf, one that she practically knew by heart. It was a muggle book, by the name of Romeo and Juliet. She thought it was interesting, and tragic. She also wasn't sure why the castle provided her with the book, but then again, at Hogwarts, one of the first rules was to not ask questions. Embrace the strange, and let it become a part of daily life.

Dallas flipped through the pages, not really reading what was written, when she got that strange feeling again. She whipped her head up, craning it in all angles to get a glance at what was watching her, when she saw what looked like a tuft of blond hair from behind a large oak bookshelf. Her eyed became slits and she slowly set the book down, standing upright.

Marching over to the-misleadingly-empty frame, Dallas rapt on wall with her knuckles. Crossing her arms, she tapped her foot impatiently. Eventually, a big pair of green eyes peered from around the side of the frame.

"Oh, D-Dallas. Fancy meeting you here." Arthur said, once again looking as if he would have been a bright shade of red, if he could blush. Dallas looked angry.

"Are you stalking me?" She demanded.

Arthur looked like a deer in the headlights. Truth be told, he was…stalking her slightly, if one wished to use the nasty terms. He was interested by her, and, being a little less than a week old (he didn't just appear in the castle, remember), it was very new, emotions and all that.

"You weren't supposed to find me!" He said haughtily, looking as if he instantaneously regretted what he said. Dallas rolled her eyes.

"Are you for real?" She asked. England puffed up his chest a bit, attempting to look important.

"I'll have you know that I represent the United Kingdom of-" Dallas waved him off with her hand.

"Yes yes, that's all fine and dandy…just…stop. Please." She said. His face went from one of almost a pleading look to one of a snooty manner.

"Fine then." He said, turning in his frame. Dallas sighed, feeling slightly guilty.

"Wait-" She said. He popped his head out from the corner of the frame. Dallas rolled her eyes.

"I wouldn't mind it if you wished to accompany me while I read. Just-just don't get used to it." She said, puffing out her cheeks. Arthur nodded curtly and sat down. Dallas accio'ed the chair and book over to in front of the portrait, sitting down and opening the book. If she thought there was a lack of focus before….

"What are you reading?" Arthur asked.

Dallas didn't answer for a second, then turned to him.

"Romeo and Juliet" she said, shutting the book on her fingers to keep the place. England's face lit up.

"Really? How far are you?"

"I've finished it multiple times-" She said. Arthur's grin became broader-if that's possible.

"Really- did you know that one of my citizens-"

"Stuff it."

* * *

**Ohonhon guess who phoned it in on the last part. This gal! XDDD**


	3. Chapter 3: In which they sneak

**Chapter 3) An unlikely friendship and some snoops**

**A/N: Sorry for the absence! Hurricane Sandy was a bitch XD **

**Just pretend that there was a three week time span in the story. Okay?**

**Enjoy! And as always, reviews are very welcome!**

* * *

_And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand,_

_ Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight,_

_ For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night._

_ -Romeo and Juliet (I:v)_

* * *

This began a daily ritual. Dallas would sneak off at various times in the day to 'meet' her painted friend. Of course, England would have been watching her (for her own safety, rest assured!), and rush off to meet her. Usually, they would meet in the library. It wasn't exactly the most popular area of the castle, especially not with Quiddich season swiftly approaching. Dallas would sometimes read excerpts from her favorite books to him, and England would listen, quite contently might I add. This system was working out quite well for the both of them, and Dallas was learning that Arthur was not quite as crotchety and bitchy as she thought. He actually was quite interesting, and, if he could remember them properly, supplied some interesting stories.

For Dallas, Arthur was like a best friend…which, while it made her immensely happy that she had finally found an intelligent being to carry on conversations of the fantastical with, and also saddened her a little, because once in a while Arthur would say something about wishing to be the real him, and being able to be friends with her without having to go through all the trouble of finding an empty frame or shooing away the inhabitants of it. He also made small remarks about wishing to be able to touch or smell or taste some of the things Dallas described, like the meals that were made for dinner, something that Dallas would describe to him every time they met at night.

For Arthur, the whole debacle took on a completely different dynamic. He longed for the freedom being real had, not for the obvious reasons (not being stuck in between the entire bloody UK, or next to that idiot Frenchman and loudmouthed American), but for the experiences he was missing. It almost was unfair to him to remember the real life of the real Arthur Kirkland, or to even think that there was a real Arthur out there. A real Arthur that could experience anything. Everything. Everyone. Her. He had, unfortunately, over the past few weeks, developed…feelings for the girl-Dallas. It was hard not to, though. She was interesting, sweet, intelligent, pretty, and she treated him like an equal, like a person instead of a painting. He longed to see if she was as soft and warm as she looked, to see what she smelt like, he desperately wanted to stroke her soft looking curly hair...as you can see his feelings were a lot stronger than those of Dallas. Although, he might possibly just come to terms with it before her.

Some of the other paintings began to notice Arthur's absence. He'd leave his portrait when school would start, return for the length of dinner, and then rush off to some undisclosed location. It was slightly irritating to the nosier countries (America, France…) the rest could really care less. Certain countries (mainly the UK, seeing as they were directly in his line of vision) didn't mind at all, seeing as it got him off their backs. ("It's not proper to slouch!")

The opposite could be said for Anna and Kara. They would see Dallas during classes and at meals, but more often than not she was talking to what seemed like herself, or scarfing down a meal at unrealistic speeds and then jetting off to "the library", or "to talk to a professor about an assignment". It was driving them barmy! Sometimes, she's come to dinner dressed just a little too formal, hair a little too immaculate, like she was trying just a little bit more than usual to impress someone. Anna had come to the conclusion that she was sleeping with a teacher.

Kara had ruled that off with disgust, seeing at she was almost positive all the male professors here were older than god. She had come to the conclusion that she was seeing a boy from another house that she didn't want them to know about. After quite a bit of convincing, Anna came around and agreed with her. They both decided to question about it tonight at dinner.

* * *

Dallas sat down, checking her appearance in a spoon and pushing a stray curl back into the bun she had spun atop her head. She smoothed her dress and began filling her plait, when on both sides of her, a sister sat.

"Hey Dallas!" Kara said, knocking knees with her. Dallas looked up and smiled, startled slightly.

"H-hey guys, what's up?" She asked, again attempting to push that stray curl back again. Anna and Kara exchanged looks.

"Nothing! We just wanted to talk to you!" Kara said.

"Yeah, not too much to ask!" Anna said. Dallas shot a skeptical look to both of them.

"What's his name?" Kara asked, scooting closer to Dallas.

"What house is he in?" Anna asked, grabbing some food off of Dallas' plate and putting it in her mouth.

"What's he look like?" Kara said, shooting Anna a look of disgust. Dallas could feel the pink blush spreading around her face, and probably starting to head down her neck. She made a face and forced out a laugh.

"W-What the hell are you two on about?" She asked nervously. It wasn't as if she was ashamed of Arthur…she just…didn't want to have to explain the whole portrait thing to them.

Or share.

Kara raised an eyebrow.

"Who are you fancying up for?" She asked, "Snape?" Dallas began choking on air.

"No! Ew, good lord no!" She said, "Can't I-I….I have to go. Now. Frankly, the awkward is becoming palpable and I really just…I'll explain…soon." She said, bolting upright and heading out of the Great Hall. Kara made a dejected look and said,

"So much for that." Turning to her sister, her face morphed into one of disgust.

"God Anna, do you ever stop eating?"

* * *

At the same time, the few, nosy group of paintings (Francis…Alfred…) decided to take matters into their own hands and follow Arthur when he bolted off tonight to wherever he went. So when Arthur shouted "I'll just be off, everyone, ta!" And rushed off, so did they. They stealthily (read: If Arthur hadn't been concerned with seeing Dallas they would have been found out) made their way after him, weaving through portraits and (in Alfred's case) breathing quite heavily because of the exorcise ("Why does he have to be in such a rush!"). The blond painting paid them no mind as he hastily pushed his way through the other paintings, them expecting it, creating a path for him.

Arthur grinned eagerly, taking the familiar turn into the frame in front of Dallas' favorite spot in the library. She was already there, waiting quietly, nose stuck in a book. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, and she had on a pink dress, and her tall grey school uniform socks. It was actually a little endearing. He cleared his throat loudly. Dallas jumped and spun around, smiling when she saw him.

"Arthur! What took you so long?" Arthur chuckled and said,

"Well poppet, I had to jump quite a lot of frames to get here, it's quite the effort." Dallas laughed lightly.

As the two of them continued talking (read: flirting), France and America watched in adoration and horror respectively. France had an almost mischievous look on his face as he clasped his hands and said,

"Oh my! So it's a woman zat he's been leaving us for. 'Ow seet! We must 'elp zem-"

"Dude. Why?" Alfred asked, shooting France a look. "I vote for just letting my brother's gross-whatever that is-work itself out." Francis shook his head in disgust at the American's ignorance.

"Let's leave zem alone for now, we'll 'elp zem later." Alfred made a face at the thought, but following France back to their frames nonetheless.

* * *

Dallas wrapped a stray curl around her finger and giggled. Then she realized what she was doing and abruptly stopped, but the gesture hadn't been missed by Arthur, who smirked and attempted to stand up as proudly as one could in a frame. Hey, at least he wasn't trying to be seductive.

"So, today on my walk around the school-" He started. Dallas' eyebrows shot up on her head.

"You mean you WEREN'T stalking me!?" She said, in mock amazement. Arthur shot her a look and said snottily,

"No-I don't bloody stalk you we've been over this-" Dallas opened her mouth to say something fresh when Arthur held up a hand to stop her.

"I found somewhere we could meet. Somewhere better than here. More, private, I suppose." He cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly. Dallas grinned.

"Lead the way!"

* * *

**You all should be proud of me! Even though I haven't updated, I used time to plan out little chapter summary's…plans whatever you want to call them up to chapter 12! So I know what's going down! So do expect more in a timely fashion! **


	4. Chapter 4: In which Arthur loves her

**Chapter 4)**

** A/N: Enjoy! And leave a review, I like those!**

* * *

_My bounty is as boundless as the sea,_

_My love as deep. The more I give to thee,_

_The more I have, for both are infinitive._

_-Romeo and Juliet ( II, ii, 140-143)_

* * *

Arthur stood in his frame awkwardly for a moment, remembering that the journey to the room of frames included a traipse through the corridor where the countries' portraits hang. Dallas continued to grin, making a gesture with her hands.

"L…let's go, I suppose," Arthur said, "You were going to have to meet them eventually."

Dallas raised an eyebrow but nodded. Arthur sighed, and mumbling to himself began walking out of his frame. Dallas followed hesitantly, finding it a bit awkward to not be able to see exactly in what direction Arthur was headed. He eventually reappeared a few feet ahead of her, and threw her a cheeky grin.

"Are you coming?" He asked. She rolled her eyes and began marching towards him.

"Of course I'm coming you blithering fool." She said. The two of them began exchanging banter as they walked down the hall.

"Blithering? My, what a large word for an American, have you been reading the dictionary to impress me?"

"You're an ass." She said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. Arthur let out a laugh.

"If you say so, poppet," He said.

"I know it to be true." She answered. They eventually left the library, and were slowly making their way to the hall of countries. Arthur would disappear every few moments, reappearing in a frame a few feet ahead, and Dallas would make her way over to the frame quickly, walking with him for as long as they could before it came time for him to shift frames again. The walk seemed never ending for Dallas, and far too short for Arthur. Eventually, the duo ended in front of the large oak door leading into the corridor.

"So, the place you said we could meet is through there…?" She asked. Arthur nodded and said,

"Yeah."

Dallas eagerly threw open the door, and began down the hallway. The other countries immediately hushed, pausing in whatever they were doing to flick their eyes from Arthur to the girl. Dallas felt all the eyes on her and immediately became introverted. She felt a blush creep onto her face as she walked down the corridor, pausing at the only empty frame. Her face lit up as she saw the empty frame where the country of England should have been. She paused, as he entered his frame.

Grinning, she ran a finger over the plaque the hung under it, reading what was written out loud.

"Arthur Kirkland, England, Dieu et mon droit, AD-wow. That's a…that's quite a while ago." She said. Arthur made a face.

"I'm only 23-" Dallas laughed, cutting him off.

"Is your age not a strong point, Mr. Kirkland ?" She asked. Arthur sniffed.

"No! I'm just informing you that I'm not nearly as old as some of the other countries!" His eyes flickered to a blond Frenchman watching intently from a few frames over.

Unfortunately for him, Dallas caught this, and walked down a few frames, stopping in front of the blue-eyed blonde's frame. She grinned and waved, bending a little to read his plaque.

"Francis Bonnefois…France" She said.

"Bonjour, chere!" He said, throwing her a flirty wink.

"Bonjour!" She said, grinning. Arthur threw France a look of disgust and marched into his frame, not so subtly pushing France out of the frame.

"Let's…let's keep moving. No need to talk to any of them-"He said, ushering Dallas to follow him. Dallas turned and waved to the countries.

"Bye!" She said, waving. Arthur huffed.

"Come on!" He said. He really just wanted to get her away before any conversations could be started. Dallas followed him the rest of the way through the winding hallways to another wooden door.

She pushed it open, revealing a large circular room. It looked liked is was one of the castle's turrets, with a high open ceiling and a large window overlooking the great lake. The walls were covered in empty portrait frames.

Dallas smiled and looked around.

"It's perfect!" She said, grinning and running over to the portrait that Arthur was standing in. Arthur gave smiled.

"Brilliant!" He said.

Dallas looked down at the watch on her left wrist.

"Shit!" She exclaimed. Arthur looked shocked for a second, taken aback at the curse word leaving her mouth. It was strange for him to hear such an ugly word leave her pretty mouth.

"W-what? What is it?" He asked her.

"I have to get back to the dorm! I have a transfiguration exam tomorrow!" She said, Arthur making a disappointed face.

"I'm so so sorry, hey, meet me in her tomorrow around seven, okay?" She said apologetically, kissing the canvas where his cheek was. Arthur nodded and Dallas bolted, sparing a moment to send him a wave over her shoulder.

Arthur slowly walked back to his allotted frame, ignoring all the strange or smug looks being given to him by the other countries.

"Who was she?" Asked one of his brothers (at the moment he wasn't exactly in the mood to check).

"Dallas, that was Dallas." He said. France smirked from his frame and gave Alfred a knowing look, letting the other countries shrug it off and go back to their more pressing matters (read: they really didn't care all that much.)

For the next few weeks, Dallas and Arthur continued to meet in the tower room. Dallas would bring books still, sometimes homework, and Arthur would listen or try to help her with her muggle studies.

The next month of meeting, Arthur decided something felt different about their meetings. Just, the feel of them for him changed.

He found himself following her more, also.

And when she had that conversation with Ernie Malcolm in herbology, he had become angry, and though he would never admit to it, quite jealous.

One night, he returned to his frame after an exceptionally long visit, and walking (reading: following) her back to her dorm to make sure that she was okay. Most of the countries had gone to sleep for the night, abandoning their mindless conversations. Arthur stood in his frame, a familiar smile creeping onto his face. Francis slid into the frame across from him, a smirk plastered onto his face.

"What do you want, frog, I happen to be in an exceptionally good mood and don't need you ruining it." England said. The smirk never left France's face as he said,

"So, when are you going to admit it to both yourself and 'er?" Arthur rolled his eyes.

"What are you on about?" He asked exasperated.

"Please, like you don't know-"

"I don't."

"You love 'er." Arthur blinked a few times, letting what France said sink in.

"I…I what?"

"You love 'er." France said. Arthur was silent for a few moments before nodding his head.

"I…I do." France continued smirking and haughtily walked back to his own frame, leaving an almost distressed looking Arthur to ponder his thoughts.

Because he did.

He loved her.


	5. Chapter 5: In which they fight

**Chapter 5)**

**A/N: And now that drama begins! Remember to leave a review!**

* * *

_O gentle Romeo,_

_If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully._

_-Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 98-99)_

* * *

Arthur sunk down in his frame.

He loved her! What if Dallas found out! He didn't exactly have the best record for keeping people he cared for. They tended to hate him after a while, Alfred being a beautiful example of this.

Half of him was telling him that Dallas was different. Even if she didn't feel the same way about him, she still wouldn't shy away from him. She was quite like him, opening up more for those she cared about, and she wouldn't. He knew her and he knew she wouldn't.

The other half of himself was yelling at him for even letting himself fall in love with her, let alone telling her. She'd leave him. She'd take back her friendship…she's hate him forever. She'd think him a perverted old man…

He sunk even lower in his frame, holding his head in his hands. There was only one thing that he could do.

He's distance himself from her. He'd tell her…well, at the moment he wasn't sure what he's tell her (he sure as hell wasn't telling her he was stopping their meeting because he loved her). But he'd figure something out. And even if she didn't understand, it would be all better. After a little while, he's fall out of love with her and maybe they'd be able to meet sparingly. He nodded, yeah, it would all work out.

He'd tell her tomorrow.

* * *

At the same time, Dallas was using her wand to highlight passages in her books that she wanted to ask Arthur about. Being pureblood, she wasn't exactly sure what a "Cinderella" was, and wanted to read it with him in case there was anything muggle that she didn't understand. She tossed the book of muggle fairy tales on top of the pile of books she was bringing with her to read with Arthur.

After changing into some comfortable sleepwear, she realized something. She wanted to ask Arthur a question. Well, at least, she'd think of one on the walk over.

She figured that she'd find him in his allotted frame, so that's where she headed.

She quietly opened the door, careful not to wake up the other countries. She quietly snuck over to where Arthur's frame stood, gently tapping on the canvas to get his attention. After doing it a few times unsuccessfully, she pulled her wand out carefully and whispered "lumos."

Her wand tip lit up, revealing an empty frame. Dallas knit her eyebrows together, deciding to check the tower room before heading back to bed. Slowly, Dallas walked over to the other door and opened it, flinching at the loud creaking noise it emitted. She ran all the way to the tower.

Throwing that door open, she found him, sitting in the frame across from the window. Her face lit up when she saw him.

"Arthur!" She breathed out. England snapped his head to her.

"D-Dallas!" He said, standing up abruptly.

"Hi!" She said. Arthur put a finger to his lips, signaling Dallas to quiet down, and Dallas mimicked him, grinning. Arthur smiled a bit, but then frowned, remembering what he planned on doing. Dallas noticed the frown and took a step towards him.

"What is it, Arthur?" She whispered. Arthur sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

"I…Dallas I think we…" It was a lot harder than he had expected, especially with her big blue eyes watching him. He took a deep breath, starting again.

"Dallas I can't…we can't see…I don't think we should do this anymore." The smile fell from Dallas' face, but then she rolled her eyes, and the grin reappeared.

"Ha ha very funny Arthur," She said sarcastically, shaking her head. It was only when she noticed that the grim look on the paintings face did the sincerity of his words hit her. Her face fell once again, this time twisting into a look of pain, and then anger.

"What…why?!" She said loudly.

"Calm down-"

"Don't you tell me to calm down, Arthur Kirkland. I demand an explanation! What's wrong with me? Am I boring? Are you bored with me is that it? Are you just sick of me? Answer me, god damn it!" She yelled loudly, her eyes filled to the brim with fresh tears. Arthur didn't answer instead offering her a sad look.

"I can't..I can't…" His words died in his throat as he took a good look at her face, almost in hysterics. Dallas' eyes narrowed at his lack of explanation.

"Fuck you Arthur, I can't…I just…I wasted so much fucking time on you! Anna and Kara barely talk to me now! I've missed so much time I could have been interacting with real people on you! For you to fucking tell me you've just decided that we shouldn't do this anymore without any real fucking explanation?! I'm done. I'm done with you." She yelled, the tears finally streaming down her face in frustration and hurt.

Arthur couldn't respond.

If she knew.

If she only knew.

He felt a lump form in his throat as she flung the door open and marched back to her dorm, not even attempting to be quiet anymore.

Arthur shakily moved back to his frame, replaying what had just happened in his mind over and over again.

He stood there. Just…stood there. And he had no plans on leaving.

* * *

Dallas made her way back to her bedchamber, angrily. She slammed herself onto her bed, shoving her face into her pillow, swearing. She sat up, and knocked over the stack of books angrily.

He was a painting.

She didn't care.

He was a painting.

She didn't care.

He was a painting.

She cared.


	6. Chapter 6: In which Alfred makes sense

**Chapter 6) **

**A/N: So, I went back and fixed up the story, changed some of the dialogue, gave it a facelift! Sorry this chapter's so short...I hope you like it! R&R**

* * *

_Was ever book containing such vile matter_

_So fairly bound?_

_-Romeo and Juliet, (III, ii)_

* * *

_Her brown hair was matted against her head, her pale skin covered in a thin layer of soot. She was crying, the tears smudging the skin on her cheeks. It was burning. The large Victorian estate was burning and there was nothing that she could do about it. And then she felt a pair of arms around her, craning her neck she saw it was him, Arthur, comforting her. She sobbed into his shirt, and he smoothed her hair, whispering words of love and comfort. Slowly, she felt the wind around her pick up, and the comforting embrace of Arthur's arms gone. She watched in horror as Arthur slowly disintegrated with the wind, leaving her and the ashes of her old school alone._

Dallas woke up, sputtering and swearing. It had been three weeks since she last saw the portrait of England, and her dreams had only been getting worse. They were vivid too; she could almost smell the burning building, and then the oil pastel-like smell that she associated with Arthur.

They all started out the same, she was in front of the old school, crying or watching her friends burn, sometimes even Anna and Kara's face would be thrown into the flames, too. Then, he would appear. Sometimes, he burned too, trapped in his frame and calling her name. Sometimes, he would appear, and love her, and then leave her.

He always left her.

Angrily wiping away the tears that had been left on her cheeks, she grabbed her wand and marched out of the dorm, not sure of the path she was taking.

"Dude!" She heard someone whisper, and she whipped her head around frantically, looking for whoever broke the silence of the castle at night, gripping her wand tighter.

"W-who's there?" She asked, praying to god that it wasn't another portrait. Apparently, she had no such luck, because when she turned, another portrait was grinning at her with a golden-retriever like look on his face.

He looked considerably young, especially when you equated him to the likes of Arthur, or France. He had large, cerulean eyes that were filled to the brim with excitement. His honey-colored hair had a piece that stood strait up on his head, and he wore a tan military uniform with black boots and a brown bomber jacket over it.

Dallas, ever on guard, placed her hands on her hips and said,

"And who might you be?" The portrait of the man puffed out his chest.

"Alfred F. Jones, otherwise known as the United States of America, at your service!" He said pompously. Dallas almost laughed at the child-like quality this man possessed.

"And is there something I could help you with, Mr. Jones?" She asked. Alfred frowned a bit, and then nodded.

"Well, actually I was wondering if you'd hear me out for a bit." He said. Dallas was slightly startled by his solemn look, and nodded, lowering her wand and making a motion for him to continue.

"So, last I heard, you and Artie weren't speaking," he started awkwardly. Dallas nodded her head, a light pink blush spreading across her face. Alfred cleared his throat.

"I think you should give him another chance. I mean, I don't really know and I don't really care about why…but…he's been through a lot." Alfred looked around, making sure there was no one there to retell what he was about to say.

"He's a pretty cool dude, once you get past all the grouchiness-" Dallas smiled fondly in spite of herself.

"I know." She said. Alfred allowed a small smile.

"He's hurting real bad, you know. He just sits in his frame. He doesn't even correct my grammar anymore! Or yell at me for being too loud!"

Dallas giggled, imagining Arthur sternly parenting this child-like man. The grin slipped from her face and she shook her head.

"But he-" She started, the words sticking in her throat.

"He told me he didn't…couldn't be friends with me anymore! I didn't do anything!" She said indignantly. Alfred chuckled,

"You're just as hard headed as him, huh?" He said. Dallas made a face.

"W-what?" She asked. The two Americans heard footsteps heading towards them. Alfred made a face.

"See ya later kid, nice talking to ya!" He shouted over his shoulder, quickly heading back to his frame. Dallas sat on the floor, blowing a piece of hair away from this face.

"I…I should go see him."

* * *

"So do we 'ave a deal 'eadmastor?" The painting of France asked the headmaster, smirking slightly. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Why yes Francis, I think we do. I'll send him a letter tonight."


	7. Chapter 7: In which there's a letter

**Chapter 7)**

**Wow, these chapters just keep getting shorter and shorter. Oh well! The first part of this chapter takes place with the real Arthur.**

**R&R!**

* * *

_Help me if you can, I'm feeling down_

_And I do appreciate you being round_

_Help me get my feet back on the ground_

_Won't you please, please help me_

_-Help! The Beatles_

* * *

Arthur Kirkland sighed and placed the last of his papers in his folder. It was the same, monotonous thing he'd been working on for about a month, and frankly, he'd rather watch America's half-witted presentation than even think about that.

"And_ I'll_ be the hero, of course-" America was blathering on about something or other, nothing important. England sighed again out of frustration and tapped his gloved fingers on the desk. He was bored. Extremely bored.

He could feel _it,_ also. That small twinge inside of him that represented the magical part of his society, it was present again.

A small tap on the window made all the countries sitting in the round conference room turn their heads.

At the window was a tawny owl, and in that tawny owl's beak was a rather thick envelope. Scotland and England, the two countries with the most active magical users, gave each other a look, and both stood to go collect the owl. The room had hushed; America even stopped talking long enough for an anxious silence to envelope them.

Arthur hesitantly opened the window, allowing the large bird to hop in and tilt its head at him. Arthur took the thick letter from his beak and stroked it absentmindedly as he slowly opened the letter.

"Oi! Let me see!" Scotland, Northern Ireland and Wales said in tandem. The other countries exchanged looks.

"I'll read it aloud, keep your bloody knickers on you ponces!" Arthur said grouchily, unfolding the heavy parchment that was inside the envelope.

The words died on Arthur's lips as he exchanged looks with his brothers.

"They want us at Hogwarts."

* * *

Some of the countries with a magical population (France, Ireland…and even America) just nodded and looked at each other knowingly. If this was Dumbledore's doing, there was reasoning behind it.

Other quirked eyebrows and mouthed 'Hogwarts?'

Arthur nodded and began explaining it.

"…So basically Eire, you'll be coming along with my brothers and I, Alfred, unfortunately you're tagging along too…Francis…Norway…" Arthur continued to read off a list, and the countries named straightened up a bit.

"Dude, are our bosses going to let us go?" Alfred asked. The United Kingdom exchanged looks and all murmured in confirmation.

"Then I suppose we're going then."

* * *

Dallas sat on the floor, holding her head in her hands.

She hated him!

Right…right?!

Why was she so willing to forgive someone that quickly? She pondered this as she allowed her feet to move her back to the Ravenclaw tower, where she quickly sought out the beds of a sleeping Kara and Anna.

Dallas could feel tears of frustration threatening to fall, so she gently poked the sisters, who both woke up with a shout.

Surprisingly Anna was the one to catch the look on Dallas' face.

The sisters exchanged looks and both stood from their beds, wrapping their arms around Dallas.

Kara broke the silence first.

"Whoever he is, go talk to him."


	8. Chapter 8: In which they make up

**Chapter 8)**

**A/N: Sorry it took so long for a new update! My old computer that had all my stories was acting up big time, but I got a new one for Christmas, so updates can resume as normal ^^**

**Enjoy! And remember to leave a review! **

**I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter!**

* * *

Now, as narrator for this story, I want to keep things moving along. Normally I'd bring you in for a good long depiction of what our dear painted Arthur was doing-let you get the idea of his feelings, what he was thinking about, his actions…but at the moment, I can't do that to you, the poor reader, because, to be honest with you, that would make for a very boring chapter, which is why I'll keep this brief. The painting of Arthur Kirkland that hung in the hallway with the rest of the portraits wasn't doing very much of anything, as of late.

He just sat there, staring blankly into space.

Or rather in the general direction of Scotland, which more than creeped him out…but I digress.

He had expected this to be easy, for him to tell Dallas that he didn't want to see her anymore and for her to just quietly walk away, letting the feeling of love fester in him for a little while before disappearing completely, which wasn't the case at all. If anything, the feeling had tripled, and between that and the fact that Dallas most definitely wasn't talking to him, brought him to the current comatose state that he was living in.

Paintings aren't great at dealing with emotions.

* * *

"Remind me again why we brought you…?"

"Because dude, you needed the hero for a good time!" America boasted loudly. The real Arthur Kirkland pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"Right right, of course," He said sarcastically, tugging at one of his gloves, "That's why."

America gave an obnoxious laugh and leaned back in the train compartment he was sitting in. Arthur sighed and opened up his copy of the Daily Prophet, which he had acquired from a nice lady selling sweets. He pursed his lips and read silently, a sense of foreboding and dread filling his body. With each letter and sentence, the felling and premonition of a war in his magical society became more and more apparent, sending a pang of guilt through Arthur's chest. He didn't have much authority over that sense of his population, and because of that he couldn't do much to stop the dementor attacks across London, or help the Ministry find the escaped convicts from Askaban, especially that wanker, Serious Black, who had escaped all but two years ago, and was still on the loose.

"Dude, you look more butt hurt than usual, what gives?" Asked America. England shook his head and offered America a cross look.

"Stuff it, fat arse," He said sharply. America looked aghast.

"I AM NOT FAT-!" He began to defend himself when an amused looking Francis slid open the compartment door, Spain and Prussia flanking each of his sides.

"We're 'ere, if zat interests anyone." He said, grinning and turning on his heel. Arthur grinned as he gathered his belongings and made the journey out of his compartment into the waiting arms of Albus Dumbledore.

"Ah, Arthur, I'm pleased to see you, you're just in time for dinner!"

* * *

Dallas stood in front of the large oak doors, a fist raised as if she were about to knock. She made a face and then placed a hand cautiously on the handle, as if it would burn her if she gripped too tight.

Slowly, she pushed the door open, mentally preparing the apology she was planning on giving Arthur. She made her way down the seemingly endless corridor, noticing that, of course, the one frame that she needed was empty. Rolling her eyes she began to head towards the larger oak door that led to the small turret room in which the duo would meet in in the moths prior, much to the delight of France and (though he would never admit it) America.

The month that she hadn't spoken with Arthur was long, and seemed to go by slower than any she had ever encountered. She found herself more stressed than ever, and she wanted nothing more than for him to comfort and council her, to tell her that everything was okay.

Dallas quickly opened up the oak door that led to the round turret room, closing it quietly and scanning the empty frames for the not-so-empty frame she was expecting to find.

"Arthur?" She said quietly, waiting for a response.

* * *

"Arthur?" A soft, feminine voice breathed out. One that sent Arthur's heart beating ramped in his chest.

"D-Dallas?" He asked, standing from the slump he had been in in the frame he was occupying.

He heard the soft padding of feet, and when he looked down, the next thing he saw was her. Her big blue eyes looked a soft grey color in the fading light of the turret, and she gave off the air of a wounded animal, nervous and anxious.

"I…I'm sorry!" The pair said at the same time. A giggle bubbled from Dallas' lips and he watched them turn into a smile.

"I miss you…" She said quietly, and with those words, Arthur felt his heart shatter in his chest. She missed him. She thought about him. This was her coming to try to fix things with him!

Arthur kneeled down in his frame and pressed his palms to the canvas, like he was looking out a low window. Dallas smiled sadly and pressed her palms against his.

"Will you promise not to tell me to leave you again?" She asked quietly, and his green eyes searched her face.

"Promise." He said, smiling for the first time in a month.

He watched Dallas smile and turn, heading towards the exit.

"Where are you going!?" Arthur asked urgently.

"Dinner, I hear there's a real surprise tonight!" Dallas said with a toothy grin.


	9. Chapter 9: In which Dallas spits up

**Chapter 9)**

**A/N: Look at that! I decided to update again XD**

**I've also decided to start replying to people's reviews, so if there's anything you have to ask or suggestions there's the place to ask! I'll basically do a mass response to the ones for all the previous chapters in this one, though ^^**

**SakuraEmma29: Thank you for all the awesome reviews! It's nice getting feedback and finding out that people actually read/enjoy my writing XD! I keep them pretty annoying short huh? That's mostly due to my laziness….XDD but I guess we could lie and pretend it's that I like keeping you in suspense. She meets him in this chapter, and trust me, I'm nervous too XD**

**Crazy4Reading: Thanks ****! I'm glad you're enjoying the story ^^**

**TheAnimeWriterLover: Thanks a bunch for all the reviews, like I said I love reading feedback! And may I just say that your icon picture of Iggy with chibi America and Canada is freaking adorable! **

**DJMitsu: I was going to put something fresh as a reply to you, mon chere, but then I decided not to because I love you XD I'm not thanking you though, if that's what you want *tsundre face***

**The Almighty Pyro: Thanks for the awesome feedback ^^**

**I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter!**

* * *

Arthur Kirkland sighed and tightened his dark tie. America was going to scare Dumbledore before dinner.

"Alfred, shut your gob!" He said, to which Dumbledore chuckled and led them to the large doors of the great hall.

"Personally I find it fascinating." He stated simply before opening the doors. Alfred stuck his tongue out at Arthur, who was massaging his temples, before strutting into the grand hall.

* * *

"So then I told Peeves that he could-" Anna was finishing up a story that had left both Kara and Dallas with blushes painted across their cheeks.

"W-wow Anna…" Dallas stated, and Kara just whacked the back of Anna's head. The three laughed at returned to dinner, but Dallas was feeling especially fidgety. She was eager to get back to Arthur.

* * *

Arthur Kirkland noted the lack of Francis, but disregarded that for the moment in favor to take in the beautiful Great Hall.

He brushed some shaggy blond hair out of his eyes and took his place at the professor's table along with the other countries at the front of the room, scanning his eyes over the great variety of witches and wizards conversing with each other or eating.

* * *

Dallas took a sip of her Pumpkin juice as Dumbledore gave some sort of speech about 'respecting the newcomers.' She rolled her eyes internally and turned to face the head of the room.

She paused mid-sip though, when she noticed a tuft of blond hair. She raised a brown eyebrow and angled herself so that she could see behind her headmaster.

She froze when she saw him.

The real Arthur Kirkland.

He had a stern look on his face and it looked as though he was reprimanding the real America. Dallas spit out her pumpkin juice quite violently, covering both herself and Anna with the spray.

"GROSS!" Anna said, standing up abruptly and shaking off as much spew as she could.

Dallas began hacking and sputtering, her pulse quickening.

"I-I-Ihavetogo!" Dallas cried quickly, sprinting out of the great hall, leaving a room full of many, many, many confused people and countried.

* * *

England was patiently waiting in his frame when the door to the tower room slammed open, a wet, rumpled and out of breath Dallas in the doorway.

"Iwasjustinthegreathallandyou werethere! Well,notyoubuttherealyou….youknowwhatImean!" She said quickly. England widened his eyes, chuckling.

"One more time poppet?" He said. Dallas shut the door, sitting herself on the floor, chest heaving.

"Are you feeling alright?" England asked, feeling slightly concerned.

"Y-you…the real you….you're here…" Dallas began, explaining what had just happened. The portrait felt his chest tighten, for two reasons.

One, she had gotten this flustered over the _real_ him, so to speak. That was a good sign….right?

Two, this was the _real_ him. The real him that would undoubtedly become interested in the thin girl. But then again, she just spit all over herself, so there _was _still hope that she'd be his, as least for a little while longer.

* * *

**Dun dun dun…sort, sloppy chapter written in study hall. I apologize XD The next one will be much more…well…well written. Plus, you'll find out more about the _*coughs* _real *_coughs* _Arthur and what the whole thing with Francis was about ^^**


	10. Chapter 10: In which Dallas loves

Chapter 10)

**A/N: An update :O **

**I make that joke every chapter of everything I write, I need to come up with some new material XDD**

**Also, I've decided that I'll (for the most part) be referring to portrait Arthur as England and the real Arthur as, well, Arthur! **

**Remember to drop a review off, I like reading them X33**

**I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter**

* * *

Dallas sighed and sat in her dorm, fully washed, dried, and humiliated.

_Great first impression, _she lamented to herself. Why in the world had he elicited such a reaction from her! She chewed on her bottom lip softly as she pondered this, trying to identify the new, alien feeling spreading throughout her chest.

Arthur, the _real_ Arthur, flesh and bones, and as human as any personified country could be, was here. _Here._ In the castle.

Dallas reached up and grabbed her pillow, pushing it over her face and growling, frustrated. What happened to the days of reading alone in the library and hanging out with _real_ friends. Hell, she would even settle for being stalked and awkward meetings in the library. Then stupid love had to get all involved, not to mention with a _portrait_ nonetheless—hold up a second. Did she just say _love_? Or rather think it but still, is _that_ why she spit pumpkin…oh. It finally clicked, and she sat up straight, clutching the pillow she had pressed to her face against her chest. She was in love with him. She wasn't sure how long it had taken, how long she had been in love, but she just _knew_.

Just, she felt it.

She growled again and lay back again, crossing her arms over her fuzzy pink bathrobe.

"I _hate_ you, Dallas." She muttered to herself.

* * *

Needless to say, Arthur Kirkland was having an odd day. Well, not that any day in an old Scottish castle being used for the means of teaching magic is normal but still, an odd day indeed.

It wasn't the pumpkin juice (which HE didn't mind, no matter how much Alfred _insisted_ that it was 'gnarly'), and it wasn't the strange spark that was ever present whenever he was around his magical community.

It was dinner.

He wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling that that girl has spat her pumpkin juice on her friend because of him.

The thought made Arthur feel a little sheepish, not sure if someone spitting out liquids on another person is something to be flattered or offended by.

She was a cute little thing to…well, at least he thought she was…she was a bit damp…

He shook all the thoughts bouncing around in his brain out, and laid down in his bed, ready for a goodnight's sleep.

* * *

Now, I surmise that you, being the astute reader you are, noticed the lack of Frenchmen in the last few chapters or so.

The real Francis Bonnefoy was leaning against a corridor wall in all his glory. The eerie light the torches on the wall were giving off shined off of his golden hair, giving it an almost green glow. His big, blue eyes shined with a hint of malevolence.

"Ah, it was a pleasure talking with you, moi!" He said with a chuckle, the portrait version of him nodding.

"Do you think zat our plan with work?" He asked, looking to make sure no one heard. The real Francis just nodded.

"Now, if you excuse me I 'ave some beauty sleep to catch up on." He said, and with a wink he slinked away, into the darkness of the castle.

* * *

**Shorty tonight, yo XD **


End file.
